A Child's Melody
by openedlocket
Summary: A child plays to the rhythm provided by her father. It's a slightly symbolic story, post-KoA. This fanfic gives Gen a daughter who is the Princess of Attolia. Disclaimer: The elements from the Queen's Thief series all belong to Megan Whalen Turner.


A Child's Melody

She tapped the keys of the piano lightly, as if afraid to be heard making a mistake. The sound of the slow and sad melody resonated throughout the room. The only other sound that could be heard was the gentle rhythm of someone's foot tapping the ground.

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

Rhythm and melody sounding together into a song that made one become silent with its tender air. It was a simple tune but its simplicity gave it life, making anyone nearby want to listen.

The music ended all too soon, the little girl at the piano set her fingers on the ending keys. Her father stopped tapping his foot to the rhythm, eager to hear the beautiful end of the song. She played the next few notes with ease; but at the very last one, she fumbled and pressed the wrong combination.

The little girl groaned in exasperation and quickly closed the lid of the piano. She had always had trouble with that ending. She had practiced and practiced just to get it right for her father only to have her mess it up at the very last note. Her father stood up to stand beside her. He placed a comforting hand on her right shoulder.

"What are you so upset about? That was great," her father reassured her, seeming sincere in every sense.

She knew better than to believe him because her father was very good at pretending. He could just be lying to make her feel better. "No," she replied stubbornly. "It was horrible and you know it."

Her father looked at her with a concerned expression. "No really dear," he insisted. "It was a very beautiful piece. I don't see what this reaction is about."

"The ending," the little girl murmured. "And I was playing too fast. My music tutor always complains about that."

"So you make a mistake at the last part, it was just one measly note. And who says you're playing too fast? I'll have that tutor of yours incarcerated if he tells you that again. Obviously you're playing it normally; he's just too slow to notice."

The girl couldn't help but chuckle at her father's strange way of reasoning. He always knew how to make her feel better, but she still couldn't get rid of the disappointed expression on her face.

Her father didn't miss a beat. "What's on your mind?" He gave her a gentle nudge with the hand he had placed on her shoulder.

She shook her head. "Nothing."

"Oh come on, you can't honestly think I'd fall for that. What is it?"

"Well..." she began reluctantly. "Father, do you have the feeling that everyone asks too much of you?"

Her father looked amused, which bothered her since she was trying to confide in him. "Only all the time," he answered, looking even more amused at the disbelief on her face.

"You?" she asked, surprised. "No one ever asks anything of you!"

"Excuse me?"

"No, I just meant..." she took a deep breath to sort out her thoughts. "You and mother are best at everything, and since I'm your daughter, everyone always tells me I have to be great at everything, too."

He shook his head, laughing. "If only you knew."

"Know what, Father?"

"You see, dear," he tried to explain to her. "Sometimes, children suppose that their parents are the greatest people who ever lived and that they should be like them too. You see no one is perfect, not your mother and especially not me. You don't have to be anyone but yourself, dear. Never forget that."

"But what about all my tutors and mother? They always tell me I have to try harder and to aim higher. It's hard Father. They expect the world of me," she said sadly. She could only tell these things to her father for the reason she just told him. He was never disappointed with her and he knew she was trying her best. It seemed that he was the only one who remembered that she was a little girl and not a just princess.

"Well," he said. "I will have to talk to your tutors about that, your mother as well. But you know, they're only doing that because they know you're already great at these things, you just need to be pushed harder for you to show it. Am I making any sense here?"

"I think so," she said reluctantly.

"Now, I want you to try playing that song again-"

"Again," she groaned. "I'll get the ending wrong."

"You'll get it right this time. I promise," he assured her.

She pouted stubbornly. "Father, your promises are seldom fulfilled."

"Hey," he reprimanded her teasingly. "That is a treasonous statement. Now I'm commanding you to play. You can't deny the king his entertainment."

"Yes, sir." She couldn't help but smile at her father's playful manner. She opened the lid of the piano and played the song once more. She felt her heart beat louder and louder as she approached the end of the melody. Realizing that her father's hand was still on her shoulder her heart lightened. Finally, the dreaded notes needed to be played. Her father squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. Feeling his comforting gesture, she played the last notes effortlessly.

They stayed silent for a few moments until her father broke the silence. "That," he said softly, "was beautiful. I told you you'd get the ending right."

She was too shocked of her own success to reply. They both heard the door open and they turned to see the queen, her mother, walk towards them.

"Ah, Irene," her father said in greeting.

"I heard both of you were here. I wanted to make sure you wouldn't be late for dinner again," her mother replied.

The girl looked at her father as if to say 'I told you so.' Her father saw this but he didn't show any sign of understanding her expression. Instead he asked his wife, "Did you hear our daughter play a lovely song on the piano?"

"Yes." The queen nodded.

Their daughter's face fell. Was her mother disappointed with her again?

"So," her father continued. "What did you think?" She wished her father would just stop, she knew what her mother had to say. She probably hated it.

"I think," she said nonchalantly before smiling at the little girl. "that she plays better than her music master."

Again, the little girl could hardly believe what she was hearing. Her father looked at her, "What did I tell you?"

She remained speechless. She was unused to praise from _both _her parents, especially from her mother.

"Now," her father said, holding her hand as she got down from the piano bench. "We need to go for dinner." He linked his other arm with her mother's, taking care not to poke her with his hook. All three of them walked out of the room together and as they walked out the door the little girl squeezed her father's hand. _Thank you. _

He squeezed back, knowing exactly what she meant.


End file.
